Mike was busy with his Department minicomputer. April sighed, grateful that the long day was over. She lifted her hot hair off her neck and clipped it into a ponytail, pleased that it had been her turn to win the daily debate between Chinese and Mexican food. This reminded her of the wedding food on the banquet table at the Schoenfelds' house. Funeral food now. She knew a little about Jewish cuisine from her days on the Lower East Side. Smoked fish and meats, pickles and pickled herring. Knishes, noodle pudding. Gefilte fish. Chopped liver, all heavy stuff.
She mused about Mike's taste for meats and chicken that had been stewed all day so you couldn't tell what it was or how old it had been when it went into the pot. He loved melted cheese and weird-tasting sauces made with ingredients the Chinese never used: ground seeds, green tomatoes, red tomatoes, many types of dried peppers, cocoa, beans, avocado, cumin.
Like many Chinese, April thought even the freshest, mildest cheese smelled bad and that Mexican sauces left a gritty taste in the mouth. When she married, her parents and friends would expect a Chinese banquet. Fifteen to twenty-two courses, without mole.
A skinny waiter set a teapot on the table. The Chinese believed twenty cups of green tea a day was a necessity for good health. Yesterday she'd come up fourteen short. April poured and downed her first cup of today. Nineteen to go.
'Come up with anything?' she asked.
Mike had one of those gizmos only the top brass had. About the size of a Palm Pilot, the thing beeped, then printed on the screen every major crime as the dispatchers called them in. Already a shooting in Brooklyn and two rapes in the Bronx that day. Mondays were usually pretty quiet.
'I'm running a warrant check on Wendy. It's showing an error.' Mike fiddled some more, then put the thing in his pocket.
The skinny waiter reappeared. He and April consulted in Chinese. 'Any special requests?' she asked Mike.
'Yeah.' He pocketed the computer and turned serious. 'Tell me your problem,
'My problem?' The question surprised her.
'Uh-huh. You're not truthful. You say you trust me, but you don't trust anybody.' Mike had the expression he used for suspects—the bad ones, not the not-so-bad ones.
April's face reddened in front of the hovering waiter. She placed an order in rapid Chinese.
'What are you talking about?' she asked as soon as he was gone.
'Tell me what picture you see in this case.' Changing tack rapidly was one of Mike's effective interview techniques.
'Okay. The wedding was for show for sure. They hired a party planner to pull off a Broadway production. What?' He was giving her a funny look.
'I mean about the girl.' Again with
'Oh. Tovah.' They kept calling her
That really bothered her. 'Her name was Tovah,' she said.
'Tell me about Tovah then,' he said, chewing on his mustache.
'She was marrying a boy she didn't know well because her family didn't want her dating. She had a zoned appearance. The party planner thought she was on drugs, is that what you mean?' April raised her delicate eyebrows. 'Drug angle?'
'Why don't you tell the truth to a man you know well, who loves you very much and wants to marry you?'
Who needed this tonight of all nights? Twice in one day was too much. April tossed her head. They'd been through it all before. Certain things were facts of life. Their differences. She didn't want to go into it again.
'Don't you get it?' he demanded. 'You're nearly twice that girl's age. You talk about getting married. You think about the menu and your dress, but that's about it. What are you waiting for? A death in the family?'
'Mike!' April inhaled sharply, taking a direct hit from the man she'd always counted on to be a good sport.
'You know your mother is not going to die to release you. She'll probably outlive us both. Why can't you do what's right for you and me?' His face was angry. He meant it.
April stared at him, annoyed that he'd just tossed away any chance for a happy moment at the end of a very difficult day.
'Why bring this up now?' She poured more tea for health. Drank her second cup of the day, immediately needed to pee.
Mike put his hands on the table. 'A relationship has to move forward or end. That's it, April. I'm telling you right now.'
'What's this, an ultimatum?' Her cheeks flushed hotter.
'Look, I've tried everything to show I love you. How many years now? I'm discouraged. I have bad dreams.' Mike shook his head. 'And now this case.'
April was tired and just as upset by the case as he was. The press was doing its usual dirty work, blaming the victim for the crime. The Ribikoffs and Schoenfelds were being held up as child abusers for arranging the marriage of teenage children. April wished her lover would stay focused on the crime. It wasn't about them.
'You'd be insulted if a man lived with you forever without setting a date.' He drank some water, then called the waiter over and ordered a beer.
'This case is doing something to you,' she said finally.
'Maybe, but it isn't only the case. It's a lot of things coming together. You've been stalling. You only think about your point of view, never mine.'
'I think about you all the time,' she protested.
'Look. Last week when you went home I had dinner with
You know what she said?'
'I can guess.' April put a hand to the medal Maria Sanchez had given her to make her a Catholic. It was the patron saint of soldiers and policemen. St. Some-thingorother.
has a boyfriend who wants to marry her.'
April nodded. Nothing new there.
'She's telling people she's thirty-eight, two years older than me; that's going some on the Virgin Mother. And she loves that what's-his-name.' Mike waved his hand, unable to remember the name of his mother's lover.
says she can't marry him until I'm married.'
Oy. Diego Alambra, believe it or not, was an Italian maitre d' who wanted to marry Mike's Spanish mother, a widow of five years. She was over fifty. What was she waiting for? Figure it out.
says she's living in sin. She says we're living in sin. And the truth is, I wouldn't live endlessly with someone who wouldn't marry
Would you?' Mike gave her a clear-eyed stare, and April finally drew breath.
There was a Chinese saying: A reladonship can endure anything but disrespect. So now they had a pride situation: the pride of Maria Sanchez against the face of Sai Yuan Woo. A pathetic situation. Maria Sanchez had plans of her own, and now she had muscle. She'd found the right words to influence her son. Pride and honor for the Spanish ran as deep as face for the Chinese. Mike had to defend his honor now, and now that April saw it his way, she couldn't deny he was right. Jimmy Wong, who'd been her sometime boyfriend for several years before Mike, had frequently promised to marry her. When he hadn't made good on his promise, she'd dumped him. Mike always told her she was the love of his life, but right now she could see that pride was gaining strength. Certainly in Chinese, face for millions of people was more important than love.
